She Became Rich After Divorce (Cheyenne and Kelvin) novel Chapter 633

Chapter 633: I'll Take the Poison for Her

The sweet mutual trust between the two left the onlookers stunned and envious, wondering why Cheyenne deserved the affection of so many high-quality men?

Then, in front of everyone, Cheyenne took out her silver needles and displayed the Edwards family's exquisite skill.

It was rumored that in the past century, no one had reached the highest level in the Wind Hall. Adrian claimed to have mastered it, but he was already in his seventies. How old was Cheyenne? Twenty-one or twenty-two, an age when most people were still considered beginners. Could she really perform the Thirteen Needles? Or was it just a gimmick, a setup that would backfire?

Emily sneered and taunted her, "Some people put on airs, but they might end up with egg on their face."

Cheyenne remained unperturbed and lightly parted her red lips, disdainfully saying, "Whether it's real or fake, Miss Davidson will see for herself."

With that, she opened the bundle in her hand. Rows of silver needles of various lengths and sizes neatly lined up, presenting themselves to the audience. Lucien sat cross-legged, and Cheyenne inserted the needles into specific points on his body.

As soon as the needles were inserted, Lucien felt as if his head was about to explode. His scalp tingled, and his entire body seemed to have blood flowing in the opposite direction, causing his meridians to burn with pain.

It seemed he had underestimated Cheyenne and the Edwards family's Thirteen Needles. Adrian's gaze remained fixed on Cheyenne's technique, with an expression of shock.

No, this wasn't the Thirteen Needles, but a new technique, one he had never seen before. When had his grandniece developed her own set of needle techniques? Truly, it filled him with pleasant surprise.

With visible speed, Iker's once fair complexion started turning a pale shade of green. Veins bulged on his broad forehead, twisted like sturdy earthworms, and furrows appeared on his forehead. Beads of sweat as large as soybeans dripped down, staining his white shirt with irregular shades. His tense arm muscles displayed graceful and powerful lines, exuding strength.

At this moment, Iker felt as if his body were being roasted on molten lava, on the verge of evaporating, the pain making even breathing a laborious task.

However, being a former soldier who had faced life and death, he managed to maintain his composure even in the face of this excruciating pain caused by the poison. He could only keep himself from screaming out loud.

"Uh..."

Seeing his distressed appearance, Cheyenne felt even more guilty. In her retaliatory act of needling Lucien, she had unintentionally exerted more force.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Miller. It's been a long time since I've used these things, and my control might be a bit off."

At this moment, Lucien also felt uncomfortable, as if his meridians were being torn apart.

What had this cursed Cheyenne done to him? It felt as though his entire soul was being torn asunder. He sat cross-legged on the ground, continuously forming seals with his hands.

His bizarre appearance surprised everyone. What was he doing? Casting a large spell? The knowledgeable among them, however, had a clue. This was Praying Magic, the oldest magic of Jostrana's.

At first, it was a primitive way of blessing. Later, due to the internal split of the sect, many factions emerged. Among them, the black-robed wizards were the most famous.

So, Lucien was attempting to use this ancient magic to transfer his own pain to someone else in order to alleviate his own suffering.

Cheyenne picked up a silver needle and walked slowly towards Iker, her hands gently pressing on his shoulders.